Rank and File
by VanillaRage
Summary: Even as a child, Gin Ichimaru has very little use for the term seniority. He has even less for where his peers feel his place belongs in it. Rated T for violence.


Rank and File  
Written for the Fanfic50 Livejournal Community  
Table 5, Prompt 18: File

Disclaimer: Bleach is the intellectual and creative property of Tite Kubo. No infringement is intended, nor any profit made.

Terms You May or May Not Know:  
Zanpakuto: The weapon wielded by Soul Reapers.  
Rukongai: The area of Soul Society where 'normal' souls reside  
Seireitei: The area of Soul Society where the Soul Reapers reside  
Yukata: A light, cotton kimono-type clothing used for informal events, summer, and sleeping  
Kosode: A shirt like piece of clothing.  
Hakama: A pleated, divided skirt worn by samurai  
Saya: The scabbard in which a bladed weapon such a katana, wakazashi, or tanto rests in when not drawn.

Many thanks to Ambient Blue who generously volunteered to beta this little work of mine. I also have to thank her for her encouragement, and the occasional kick in the pants I sometimes require.

Summary: Gin Ichimaru has very little use for the term seniority, and even less for where his peers feel his place actually belongs in it.  
_

The very first paycheck anyone gets instills near universal feelings of independence, pride, and the unshakeable resolve that you are firmly on your way to conquering the world...along with everything in it. This rule applies to nearly everybody, including child prodigies. Even a child prodigy that delighted in tormenting everyone with whom he had contact with subtle jabs of his antagonistic personality.

However, Gin was prudent enough to resist the temptation of doing a shopping blitz in one of the nicer market districts of the Rukongai. After spending so much time making sure he and Rangiku had enough to live on, meager as their rations had been, he wanted to go get everything and anything. Food, however, has this nasty little habit of spoiling and there was no way he was going to waste money just for the privilege of watching it go bad.

Though if he were honest with himself, it was a nice relief knowing that privilege was there if he ever wanted to exercise it.

He had decided early on that part of his new spoils was going towards the purchase of a new sleeping yukata for Rangiku. After a year in the Academy, she was still making do with the one she had brought with her from their days in the Rukongai. It had been threadbare and worn when they had been just two simple children living in that ramshackle excuse for a house on the outskirts of one of the poorer districts, and the passage of time had done it absolutely no favors. The seams had been stitched together so many times that the thread no longer even tried to pretend that it matched the fabric.

Once he had told her what he intended to do, Rangiku was, as expected, 100% in agreement for anyone buying her anything. For one thing, it meant she could go shopping, and two, the snarky remarks of the girls with whom she dormed at the academy could possibly cease. The academy had provided the kosode and the hakama she wore while attending her classes to become a Soul Reaper, but they were not appropriate for sleeping attire. Furthermore, trying to hide the tattered rags that made up her yukata would only increase the barely whispered remarks.

Mostly, Gin thought wryly, it was the opportunity to go shopping. He didn't bother to hide or dim his trademark grin as he watched Rangiku flit from vendor to vendor in search of the perfect material. After all, living on their own for as long as they had would toughen anyone up, even if the both of them were still children as far as appearances went. Gin didn't think either of them had much of their inner child left anymore, so any mean spirited remarks that happened to be directed her way were merely swatted away like the annoying insects that they were.

"So what is it like, being a Soul Reaper?" She asked him while looking over the wares of a vendor neither one intended to purchase from. Gin looked at the black hakama and kosode that set him apart from every other soul in the market as a full fledged Soul Reaper. They were a proof that even his young appearance couldn't belie.

He shrugged, unsure of how to answer. He thrived on trickery and misdirection, now- you-see-it- now-you-don't sleight of mind parlor tricks that made everyone feel just a little uncomfortable being around him. He didn't even mind flat out lying to get what it was that he wanted. But he disliked lying to Rangiku; certainly she wasn't aware of his true motivation to become a Soul Reaper, but she had never asked and he wasn't planning on telling. Not while that man was still alive at any rate.

"It's..." He paused, then grinned his snake charmer smile. "It's interestin'. I haven't gone ta the Real World or anythin' like that, but I've gotten ta fight some Hollows, and that was excitin'."

Rangiku pursed her lips as she considered him. "I've never seen a Hollow. Are they scary?"

"Naw," Gin sidled up next to her as they left the vendor's stall to head to the next one in line. "At least none of the ones I've fought are. Ya just gotta...get them 'fore they get you, s'all."

"I feel kind of badly for them. I'm sure no one ever wants to be a Hollow," She mused, pausing when a swatch of clear sky blue caught her eye.

Gin didn't say anything, but silently agreed with her. Why would anyone want to become a heartless monster?

"Why don'tcha get that one?" He said instead, indicating the fabric she was gently caressing with her fingers. "It's not pink or nothin', but it's pretty."

"It is pretty," She sighed, tracing her finger along one of the silver threads that made up the delicate embroidery. "Too pretty. Material like this needs to be flaunted, not slept in."

"Get it anyway," He suggested, nudging her with his elbow. He checked the price tag then scoffed. "Get enough to make two. One for bed, and one for.." He waved his hand vaguely. "Whatever."

Rangiku shot him a look that denounced him as the boy he was. "That," She declared authoritatively, "Is a stupid idea."

"Sorta like not gettin' whatcha want 'cause no one'll see ya in it?" Gin pointed out. If there was a tinge of sarcastic commentary in his tone, Rangiku chose to ignore it.

"That's different."

"Different level of stupid, maybe."

Rangiku continued to stroke the fabric with something akin to reverence. She was very clearly torn between her love for the color, the silver threaded embroidery, the way the blue seemed to catch and hold the sunlight warring directly with the less than glamourous reason she was in the market for fabric in the first place. She pursed her mouth as she finally came to a decision.

"OkayfineI'llgetit!" She gushed out in one breath, holding out the bolt of fabric to the vendor to measure and cut. The vendor suppressed the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, instead choosing to exchange a glance with Gin.

"They only get more high maintenance the older they get," The vendor warned, cutting through the material with a flourish.

Gin shrugged with good nature. "As long as she doesn't cry."

Rangiku pulled a face at him while accepting the carefully wrapped package from the vendor with gracious thanks. When they walked away, she looked at the rest of the market in reflective contemplation. "You're always taking care of me," she said after a few minutes of companionable silence.

"You take care of me too," he pointed out. "We're a family, like those guys are." He gestured up ahead where a mom, a dad, and a small child holding both of their hands were window shopping.

"That child has parents."

"We don't need 'em," Gin said firmly. "We formed our family on our own."

She made a non-committal noise in the back of her throat, casually looking over at the wares the other merchants were offering as they strolled easily down the street. Gin watched her curiously, waiting patiently for when that thought that was turning around in her brain would make its way out of her mouth like it usually did. But before her thoughts could take that well traveled pathway Gin was roughly pushed forward from a large hand in between his shoulder blades. He

stumbled forward a few steps but caught his balance before his nose could make its acquaintance with the dirt on the street.

"Well, if it isn't Lieutenant Aizen's precious little pet," A drawling voice sneered at the two of them. Rangiku glared at the three Soul Reapers towering over them who had apparently come out of absolutely nowhere. "What are you doing on this beautiful day, Gin-chaaaaan?"

"Ikari-san." Gin's smile grew a tad wider. "Such a pleasure to see you again. Your assignment go well?"

Ikari-san snorted. "It was grunt work, brat. The sort of shit that gets passed down to the dregs at the bottom of the totem pole...little snots like you."

"Ah, I ain't got no say in how Captain Hirako and Lieutenant Aizen delegate responsibilities." Gin chittered, holding up his hands in a placating gesture of truce.

"Oh ain't that the biggest line of shit." The bigger man sneered. "You got into everybody's good graces awful quick for such a short runt. Balls probably haven't even dropped yet, and you already got the prime assignments. What'd you do, bat those squinty eyes at the Captain and Lieutenant and look cute?"

"Nothin' special," There was a hint of teeth in Gin's ever broadening grin now. "I just do what the Captain and Lieutenant tells me."

One of the two men flanking Ikari spit into the street. "With no regard as to who came before you, brat. We been part of Squad 5 longer than you have, and we should be the ones getting first pick of the choice assignments."

The other man chimed in his agreement. "Yeah! We got seniority over you!"

"That's somethin' you'd have to take up with Captain Hirako," Gin repeated.

"I ain't taking it up with the Captain," Ikari enunciated every word carefully. "I'm taking it up with the little brown nosing snot right in front of me." He shoved Gin backward. Rangiku squawked her protest.

"We weren't doing anything to you!" She placed a hand on Gin's shoulder in a display of solidarity. While he appreciated the gesture, he heartily wished she hadn't drawn any attention to herself. "You're being rude and idiotic by taking out your aggressions on us."

Ikari's mustache twitched up as he bared teeth at her. "I don't really recall having an issue with you, but I'd be happy to address your complaints." He reached down to quickly snag the package from her grip before she realized what he was doing, carelessly tearing at the brown paper wrapping covering her purchase. He unfurled it, paying no heed to how much of it sat in the dirt of the street, or Rangiku's strangled cry of fury.

"Oh, isn't that pretty?" He crooned, sarcastic condescension coating every word that oozed out of his mouth. "Did your boyfriend the brown nose buy that for you?" Behind him, Ikari's compatriots sniggered.

"Give that back!" Rangiku grabbed for the fabric but it was yanked just beyond her reach. "You're getting it dirty!"

Ikari exchanged a glance with the two men flanking him before deliberately dropping the material to the ground. Gin watched as she reached, her fingers almost brushing against the sorry little bundle on the ground before she yanked them back as Ikari swiftly brought his foot down, grinding the much abused fabric into the dirt of the street.

"So sorry," Ikari simpered down at the young girl looking up at him with angry tears. "Why don't you get your boyfriend to get you another? With all the jobs he's been getting, he can certainly afford it."

Gin stepped in between Rangiku and his Squad mate. "That's right," He agreed, resting his right hand gently on the hilt of his zanpakuto. "I can buy her another one, and I probably will after we finish up our little discussion." That same wide grin with the feral hint of teeth spread over his face. "Ya seem to got a problem with me, and since ya done went and made Rangiku cry, I got one with you. So let's settle this like the men we are."

"The only men I see around here is us." Ikari spat, gesturing at himself and his two cohorts. "You're just a kid who got too big for his britches."

"Hn." Gin made a non-committal noise of possible agreement. "Or you're too small for yours. Did ya ever consider that maybe the reason that Lieutenant Aizen treats me with that favoritism you claim he shows has less to do with my age...and more to do with the apparent fact that I'm just better than ya?"

The air surrounding the small group of Soul Reapers (plus one Academy student) had gone terribly still at Gin's bald statement of the obvious. The merchants stepped back further into the shadows, hoping to avoid being directly involved in what was about to come. A small child facing off against three adults usually raises a natural sympathy, a desire to protect the weak from the strong. An undercurrent of thought ran throughout the souls watching the showdown that somehow, it wasn't the adults who were the strong ones this time.

The slight wind blowing his black Soul Reaper robes was the only indication of movement around Gin. He stood absolutely still in a loose easy stance, his trade mark fox grin spread wide across a face that no one, not even his own mother if she had ever seen it, would have called innocent.

Ikari's fingers clenched tightly around the hilt of his zanpakuto, clearly intent on teaching the insolent, arrogant brat standing so casually before him some rather permanent lessons. He twitched, and Gin moved.

Those fingers that had been clenched so tightly against the hilt of Ikari's zanpakuto were suddenly the center of Ikari's whole universe. Not surprising, considering that Gin had efficiently used the hilt of his own weapon to smash Ikari's fingers. He thought he may have broken one or two judging from the sickening series of cracks, but he wasn't sure. For that matter, he didn't much care

Distraction, when fighting anyway, can be the best friend anyone has ever had. Distractions come in all shapes and sizes, custom built for the exact opponent currently antagonizing you. For the weak or sensitive types, a mental attack in the form of crude taunts or insults, and for those of a stronger mind set (or simply too thick to comprehend the insult) physical attacks worked just fine. The point of a distraction was to give the idiot deigning to pick a fight was to give them something small to worry about. You give them something small so when the nastier attack going after their more important, squishy bits came, they never see it coming. Which was exactly what Gin was going for by attacking Ikari's rather useless fingers.

As Ikari felt the pain from his broken and busted hand, drawing all of his attention to where the pain was the strongest, bright sunlight winked from the mid morning light in a silver arced flash. His screams filled the otherwise silent market as he felt at the bleeding holes where his eyes used to be. Gin watched impassively as he scrutinized the damage he had just done to his Squad mate.

Ikari's nameless friends were, rather understandably so, affronted (and perhaps a little awed) that the little runt that they had expected to handle with no fuss or muss had permanently disabled the leader of their little clique. Refusing to admit defeat, they charged at Gin from behind.

"Shoot to kill, Shinso."

Releasing the first seal on his zanpakuto enabled Gin to extend the blade back toward the two men rushing at him with their own weapons drawn. The tip of Shinso met Nameless friend #1, piercing through his gut.

"Gin!"

Rangiku's startled cry was the only thing that stilled the boy from inflicting any further damage. Shinsho resumed it's shape of an ordinary wakazashi, pulling itself out of Nameless Friend #1 with a disgusting little squelching noise. Nameless Friend #1 collapsed into a massive, bloody heap.

Nameless Friend #2 stood with his weapon drawn and at the ready, pointing it at Gin, though naked fear was announced by his trembling limbs and shone out of skittish eyes.

"Gin, don't kill them!" Rangiku scrambled out of the dirt she'd been crouched in since the beginning of the fight. "They're done, they can't hurt you anymore!"

Gin replaced Shinso back into its saya, his grin slowly being replaced by a look of quiet contemplation.

"Is he going to die?" Rangiku whispered hoarsely, clutching at the sleeve of Gin's kosode as she looked in horror at the unmoving lump of flesh while Ikari had sunk to his knees, still crying out his agony.

Gin shrugged. "Depends on if that idiot over there stops bein' a useless bit of baggage, and goes to get Captain Unohara instead of pretendin' that he's gonna avenge the other two bits of useless baggage."

Nameless Friend #2 took the hint, turning on his heel to go fetch anyone from Squad 4 to assist.

"Are you going to get into any trouble for this?" Rangiku was still clutching at his sleeve, watching as the merchants slowly came out of their shadowed hiding places to try and help the two wounded men. Her question surprised Gin into momentarily opening his eyes.

"Why should I?"

Rangiku dropped his sleeve, and her gaze. "Because...you really hurt them. You were going to kill them if I hadn't said anything," She shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

"They were gonna try to kill me first," Gin reminded her, a tad of annoyance creeping into his tone.

"I know, I know. But I mean...they didn't have a chance and you knew it. I knew it, and I'm only a second year academy student," Rangiku moved her hands as she spoke, as if his attention would be drawn to the movement instead of her. "And if I knew it, then I know you knew it. Uhm, too. Also. Whichever. So they won't charge you with anything like excessive force, will they?"

"Probably not," By then Gin's metaphorical mask was back in its proper place. "For one thing, it was 3 men against 1 boy, and second, they started it. If it does come to any sorta disciplinary action, Lieutenant Aizen will get the matter dropped. It's their own fault, thinkin' that seniority was gonna get them what they wanted more than talent would. Just cuz they've been Soul Reapers longer don't mean I gotta answer to them."

Rangiku hadn't looked at him directly since Nameless Friend #2 had gone running off in search of aid. In a moment of blind panic, Gin suddenly regretted allowing the situation to have gone as far as it did. The thought of Rangiku looking at him the way Nameless Friend #2 had didn't fill him with confidence...if anything it made him sick to his stomach to think that he may have just caused the one person he gave a damn about to take her first step back from him. He could take his steps back, erect barriers of lies and deceit because it was all done to protect her, to make sure Rangiku wouldn't ever have to cry. The only way he could do that was if Rangiku stayed exactly where she was without ever backing away from him.

"Are all the Squads like that?" She asked suddenly. Gin felt the tense worry that had been building up dissipate in a gusty breath as he realized where her sudden apprehension was directed at what she could expect when she graduated, and not pinpointed on his sudden bloodthirsty behavior.

"Not really," Gin assured her. "Most Squad's are pretty easy to get along within the ranks. I'm sure they'll all play their political games same as every one else, but I'll tell ya the secret in keepin' your head about ya when everyone else is losin' theirs."

"Yeah?" Rangiku finally looked at him, and that last bit of tension flew away on the wind.

"I only answer to one person, and no one else," Gin told her firmly.

"Lieutenant Aizen..." Rangiku murmured, watching at the Lieutenant himself came around to corner, surveying the damage caused by his subordinates as a mass of bodies from Squad 4's relief units tended to the wounds of the fallen men.

"Hn," was all Gin said in response.


End file.
